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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379675">All-nighter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivEinziger/pseuds/LivEinziger'>LivEinziger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: SVU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e10 Rescue, F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:13:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivEinziger/pseuds/LivEinziger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a scene that could have happened right after the final scene of episode 12x10, "Rescue", in which Calvin is taken away from Olivia's custody when she runs into his mother again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Calvin Arliss &amp; Olivia Benson, Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All-nighter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Olivia! Don’t let them take me! Olivia!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was shaking as she stood, paralyzed, eyes stuck at the last place she saw him when he was dragged away, howling her name. Her lips trembled, but the tears didn’t come out, not yet: she was in too much shock to process them in that moment. That very evening, moments earlier, she’d been sitting at her desk, watching Calvin and Elliot play rock paper scissors and believing the most improbable fairy tales, only to have them all snatched away by reality in a matter of minutes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Olivia! Olivia!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few seconds went by, just a few, and even though by now she’d already heard the elevator door closing, Olivia wondered if she could still hear Calvin’s screams or if they were just seared into her ears. She felt the light, careful touch of a warm, understanding hand on her shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Liv,” Elliot said, his voice very close to her left ear just as it had been a few moments earlier, when he’d held her and kept her from lunging at Vivian Arliss – the woman who had promised her she could keep Calvin </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever</span>
  </em>
  <span> if she let her go. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Your call</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Elliot had said, but she had brought Vivian in, unable to let a murder suspect go free. A move that cost her Calvin’s custody.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You knew this was gonna happen sooner or later,” Elliot whispered, his fingers tighter around her shoulder before sliding down to her upper arm, then back up again, in calming, rubbing motions. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was always temporary</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d just said, and she knew it. He’d been hard on her about this, and she knew his intentions were the best, that he was just trying to protect her from hurting – precisely the way she was hurting right now. She knew all that; she just couldn’t deal with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>I told you so</span>
  </em>
  <span>, even if it came in a sweet, whispery package with a pretty ribbon of support on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” she reiterated like a mantra she wanted really badly to believe in as she seemed to recover her ability to move and promptly used it to make her escape. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to it. Excuse me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot didn’t fight to keep her from running, he just stayed behind like she had while they took Calvin. She imagined herself screaming at him, begging him not to leave her every night like he’d done for the last twelve years, the metaphorical hands of righteousness dragging them apart from each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had tried to warn her not to get too attached. Calvin was the son of a drug addict who hadn’t even been in her right mind when she had assigned Olivia as his legal guardian, and who was also not in her right mind now that she’d decided to revoke her previous decision. She’d been so determined to take Calvin from Olivia that she’d partnered up with the boy’s father, the man who had just shot her beloved girlfriend dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vivian’s hatred was unjustified. Her blaming everything bad that was happening in her life on Olivia was unfair. Her judgment was clouded by grief and drugs, but then again, her judgment had been just as clouded when she had appointed her as the person who should take custody of her kid. Olivia had tried her best to help Vivian, and of course, to help Calvin, the poor boy whose fate was decided depending on the combination of chemicals in his mother’s bloodstream on any given night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Calvin was the son of an addict, just like Olivia. Vivian was the daughter of a rapist, just like Olivia. She had identified with them, empathized. She had gained their trust, built a rapport. She had risked her own heart eventually shattering just so she could help them. This was so unfair. Calvin had started signing his name as Calvin Benson in school, and now the last image of him Olivia had to hold onto was his desperate arms trying to break free, his voice begging her not to let him be taken away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot had tried to warn her every chance he’d had; she had thoroughly ignored him every time. Fought him, even. He had tried, because he knew. He knew how attached she could get to people who were bound to leave her one day. Every day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t have the guts to go home and face Calvin’s drawing of her attached to the fridge. Face his toothbrush in the bathroom, the messy clothes she had to practically beg him to put away every night. Without any other place to go, she settled for the cribs. She closed the door, turned off the lights. She chose a cot, the one she and Elliot usually fought over, took off her boots and lay down, hugging the pillow under her head as the adrenaline finally subsided and allowed the tears to start flowing quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After about ten or fifteen minutes, when she was no longer crying, just staring out into space, she heard the sound of the door opening and closing, carefully, like in an attempt to not make a sound. It wasn’t a fellow officer on call, because if it were, he or she would have simply walked over to one of the beds and lay down like she’d done. The person who had just entered didn’t walk, just stood there, watching her from behind, probably trying to gather whether she was asleep or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words came out nasally from the recent crying. “What is it, Elliot?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t reply for a moment; the next thing Olivia knew, the lights were on again, and her swollen, sensitized eyes squinted reflexively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you gonna go home?” he asked, his voice gravelly – that tone he used when she was in pieces and he was being extra careful not to disturb the wreckage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked slowly, circling the bunk and finally coming into view. She stared at him, dead eyes colliding with his light blue eyes and navy blue shirt, and some nights, nights like this one, all she could see when she looked at him was his wife picking out that shirt, her hands fixing his tie around his collar in the morning and removing it at night, her arms thrown around his neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some nights, all she could see was how much he was so blatantly someone else’s. And tonight, she’d had to endure that same feeling when Calvin had been literally pried out of her grasp, and while her arms had fought until the very end, refusing to release him, she had always known she had no real right to keep him. He had never really been hers. Just like Elliot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one had ever, really been hers. She tried to imagine what that must be like. To really, truly have someone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All his stuff is there,” she barely spoke, realizing Elliot has been standing there for a while, waiting with his unanswered, rhetorical question – he knew exactly why she was holed up there in the crib, crying into a pillow she liked to tell herself smelled like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and stepped closer. “Scoot over,” he commanded, not exactly waiting for her to make room for him as he took a seat on the cot by her stomach. “I’m sorry, Liv.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said that,” she pointed out in a monotone. What did he expect her to say? He knew exactly how she felt and why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am,” he shrugged. “It’s not fair. You did nothing but help that kid and his mother. You didn’t deserve this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olivia instinctively gripped harder at the pillow. “Yeah, well. Life’s not fair. We know that better than anyone, don’t we? Doing this job, I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot nodded slowly, pursing his lips as he stared at her, seemingly taking in every detail of her demeanor. What was it he expected to read? Just how broken she was on a scale of zero to devastated? She knew he wanted to do something to help her, but he couldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he could give her was more stuff she couldn’t call her own for any meaningful period of time. A hug? Something he would have to withdraw later and take home with him like he did everything? She was left with nothing already, all the nothing she could handle for one night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Downstairs…right after they took Calvin,” he started somewhat hesitantly, bringing her back from her resentful reverie. “You said…you said you’re used to it. What did you mean by that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stared at him for a long moment, deciding whether or not she was going to say anything. He knew what she’d been talking about just as much as she did, and maybe she should actually put it into words for a change. Tonight, of all nights, she had a special brand of nothing left to lose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the words did start pouring out, though, her eyes couldn’t stay on his. They went astray. “Wanting what I can’t have,” she said. “Pretending like things are mine when I know they already belong to somebody else.” It was either staring or talking, so when she stopped speaking, that meant her eyes could land on his again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s gaze didn’t flinch, despite his eyelids’ uncertainty. His mouth moved soundlessly, though, as he seemed to be gathering up the courage to say something. His voice was hushed, as if that could make the words any less compromising as they slipped out of his mouth. “What else are you talking about besides Calvin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olivia scoffed and looked away. She’d decided to speak, then so did he – she had to give him that. He didn’t try to duck from the blow or shrug it off. But still, he knew, and he should know better than to expect her to actually say it in so many words, tonight of all nights. She’d been humiliated enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lifted her head slightly to adjust the pillow before she lay back down again, closing her eyes. She couldn’t keep the bitterness from seeping into her words. “Go home. Your family’s waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With her eyes shut tight, she felt his unmoving presence, heard his unwavering voice. “Things aren’t that simple, Liv. You see… His mother came to pick him up, with orders from his father to take him to his grandparents’…and still, the boy wanted to stay with you. He cried, refusing to leave, screaming your name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes slid open again, tears threatening to restart forming at the memory of the boy’s screams, and she wondered if their echo would ever stop piercing her ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My point is…he doesn’t belong to someone else. He belongs to you, too. If he could, he would have chosen you tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If he could…” she repeated, her voice fragile, her eyes hiding from him as they fixated on the cot next to hers, the white sheets, she could see the roughness of cotton that has been bleached way too many times.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seemed determined to stay and continue talking, even though she doubted there was anything he could say that would actually make her feel less alone. He reached out and started brushing her hair with his fingers, slowly, his tender touch on her scalp heartbreakingly soothing. “It’s just that…like you said, life isn’t fair. Things don’t always turn out the way they should. The way we’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>them to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence set in for a good thirty seconds as Olivia watched him and let his touch comfort her, thinking about his words and questioning how much she should read into them. It seemed appropriate to use his own line on him. “What else are you talking about besides Calvin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long minute went by as both of them tried to read in each other’s eyes if tonight really was the right moment to dwell on this. Whether it was or not, the truth was they had ended up here, on the same bed in the cribs, his hand caressing her hair, their words on the verge of revealing too much like never before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand slid until it cupped her face, his long fingers reaching behind her ear and making the hairs on the back of her head stand up on end. “I’m talking about the same thing you’re talking about,” he finally said, his turn to use her words against her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olivia slowly sat up. Elliot adapted his hand to her new position, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek, their eyes trading unspeakable truths. He belonged to her a little bit. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, letting herself have this for a moment – she knew that was all she would get. He didn’t belong to her enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she opened her eyes, they glimmered with a hint of sadness, and he responded by withdrawing his hand even though he sat there for another moment, watching her as she lay back down. She had to look away from the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re staying here tonight?” he asked casually as he finally stood up, covering up their unfulfilled crime, and Olivia knew he could see that was exactly the loss she was mourning right now, the loss she was used to hurting with constantly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m used to it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” she replied, closing her eyes and her heart again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olivia listened to the sounds of his feet padding down toward the door and the click as the lights were turned off again. She waited for the sound of the door, but it never came. Instead, his feet seemed to move back in her direction. Next, she heard the springs from the cot next to hers complaining under his weight. She opened her eyes to peek at him in time to see him removing his shoes and his tie. “What are you doing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned his head to throw her a quick smirk before turning around again and answering. “I’m pulling an all-nighter. Because, you know. We have a case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But we don’t…” Olivia protested weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lay down on his back, hands on his stomach, fingers interlaced, the lights from the window outlining his profile, his eyelashes moving up and down. “Don’t worry, I’ve already told Kathy. You should try to get some shut-eye while we can. The Captain might need us any minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Olivia smiled, biting her lip, trying to fight the butterflies. He belonged to her a little bit, after all, and the moments she was reminded of that were the most dangerous. Tonight, however, she would take the danger over more loss. She’d had enough loss for one night. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
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